<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>It’s all my own doing by Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23292931">It’s all my own doing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire/pseuds/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire'>Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anger, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crying, Heartbroken Simon Snow, Heartbroken Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Jealous Simon Snow, M/M, Mention of Baz’s broken nose, Moving On, Oblivious Simon Snow, POV First Person, POV Simon Snow, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Pining Simon Snow, Pining Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Protective Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Sad Simon Snow, Sad Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, SnowBaz, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Loves Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow Angst, Unhappy Ending, Watford Eighth Year, Watford Seventh Year</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:26:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,662</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23292931</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire/pseuds/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>[Explicit] 18+ Baz and another male character.</b>
</p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <em> Snow has been getting under my skin by giving me the most triumphant glares this whole evening, every time he and Wellbelove would dance. </em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <em> After watching the two of them half the night and agonising over it, I take my leave. </em>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p>Baz is heartbroken. Simon isn't yet. But he will be.<br/><br/><b>Heavy Angst with an Unhappy Ending.</b></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch &amp; Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Other(s), Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It’s all my own doing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ky7563/gifts">Ky7563</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Bree7563: I guess this is my way of saying that I value your friendship. Enjoy! 🖤</p><hr/><p>Dear reader, I have now revised this chapter and turned it into a one shot, changing the tags and published date as well.<br/><br/>There might be part two coming later.<br/><br/>But I do not feel that I'm in the right state of mind to give this story a happy ending. Not now.<br/><br/>I've been dealing with four deaths in the last year and it has affected my ability to turn sad stories into a happy ending.<br/><br/>You are welcome to yell at me for all the sadness, just no mean yelling, please. 💙<br/><br/>Lots and lots of love to my friend and beta Blue <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybluebucketofsnow/pseuds/mybluebucketofsnow">mybluebucketofsnow</a> for being gracious and kind enough to go through this pain. 💙</p><hr/>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>BAZ</h1><p>Snow has been getting under my skin by giving me the most triumphant glares this whole evening, every time he and Wellbelove would dance.</p><p>After watching the two of them half the night and agonising over it, I take my leave.</p><p>I’m not sure where I’m planning to go. Probably, back to our room, where I will be <em>alone</em>, but I don’t actually want to be alone.</p><p>Loneliness sounds like a great companion in poems and novels. It hasn’t done me any good yet.</p><p>That’s when I spot Roger — eighth year who’s graduating today.</p><p>We lock eyes and he doesn’t look away.</p><p>He’s smoking and smells pleasantly of <em>smoke</em>. He must have noticed me staring at his fag and inhaling lightly.</p><p>”It’s my last one, but I’d gladly share,” he offers and winks at me.</p><p>I reach for it and our fingers touch. He’s warm, (not like Snow) but still. </p><p>”Thank you,” I put it between my lips and take a long drag without breaking eye contact with Roger.</p><p>I'm not blind — there’s some interest towards me in his gaze. </p><p>Painful images of the golden couple on the dance floor keep taunting me. </p><p>Snow will never be mine. </p><p>Roger’s a good looking lad and he’s leaving school after today anyway. He won’t be looking for something I can’t give him.</p><p>”Care to join me for a stroll around the grounds?” He suggests when I give him back his fag.</p><p>”Don’t mind if I do.”</p><p>We walk for a while, sharing the remaining of the cigarette, talking about our plans after Watford, (plans I don’t have.) </p><p>It’s comfortable and easy flirting, it doesn’t require pretending to be someone else… or to be on my guard.</p><p>Everything on these grounds reminds me of <em>Snow</em>. </p><p>We had screaming matches all over school. He spied on me at every corner our fifth year. </p><p>In a way that thought makes our surroundings appear gloomier, more dreadful. </p><p>Beauty that is polluted by torment isn’t truly beautiful… Or perhaps it’s the fog of my cursed heart that prevents me from seeing anything reasonable… believing in a brighter day and a future.</p><p>But this isn’t the fifth year anymore. </p><p>Snow doesn't stalk me as if I were his pray to toy with. He’s busy with his girlfriend — dancing and laughing and being alive…</p><p>As the evening is getting deeper, my distress hasn't faltered, my undead heart hasn’t healed (it never will), but the haze is recessing, because speaking to Roger, looking at him jolts me awake...</p><p>I think I might kiss him. Because I’ve never kissed anyone before. (I was afraid I might bite.) And I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone but <em>Snow</em>. </p><p>But I've fed plenty in the Wavering Wood before the dance so I won’t bite and I’m done waiting for a miracle that’ll never happen where Simon Snow is concerned. </p><p>He doesn’t want me, he never will...</p><p>Needless to say Roger and I end up snogging behind the White Chapel. His lips are soft and his body is warm against mine, the faint scent of smoke on him is just a bonus.</p><p>I wonder why I never thought about this before —  to be with someone else now instead of wasting my time daydreaming about Snow. </p><p>I pull Roger closer, so I can feel all of him. We’re both getting harder.</p><p>I feel his hand on my lower back, moving downward my behind. </p><p>This is exactly what I need in order to get Snow out of my head. I press myself into Roger.</p><p>We’re the same height — I feel his cock flush against mine and the joined friction is making everything that much <em>hotter</em>. </p><p>I’ve wanked a lot before. But I have never experienced this — someone else’s erection. It adds certain desperation, desire for a mutual release. </p><p>Slowly we start moving toward the wall until Roger’s back is against it. </p><p>He moans into my mouth from the increased pressure between us and tightens his grip on my arse. </p><p>It’s nothing I ever imagined. That’d be Simon Snow touching me, wanting me, loving me.</p><p>Regardless, it’s still pleasant. I need to stop focusing on Snow.</p><p>I grind myself against Roger, our cocks touching through the fabric of our trousers and all the unnecessary thoughts about Snow are finally giving me a reprieve even if it is only for a moment. (Still worth it and it feels great too.)</p><p>Roger is kissing my neck, letting his lips move in a hurriedly erratic manner. </p><p>My breathing is getting rapid, I want to lose myself in this moment, his <em>lips </em>on my neck, his <em>hands </em>on my body, his <em>cock </em>against mine...</p><p>By the time he starts sucking a bruise, the heat inside me is burning bright and pleasantly. I need more from him.</p><p>I may have never done this with anyone before but I know enough. I know what I want and by the looks of it, so does Roger. </p><p>I linger my hand on the waistband of his trousers, I’m almost panting when I ask, ”May I?”</p><p>Roger detaches himself from my neck, breathing shallow as well, ”I thought you'd never ask.”</p><p>Neither did I if I have to be completely honest with myself. But I need this. </p><p>For once I need to feel something that is good. </p><p>I have a sneaking suspicion this will feel exceedingly good.</p><p>I press myself into his side, meet his lips with mine and kiss him sloppily while squeezing his already hard cock through the fabric. Then I start impatiently working on the flies of his trousers. </p><p>Just as I’m about to take his cock out, there’s a noise coming from the side. </p><p>I’ve been too preoccupied with my own cock pressed into Roger to pay any attention to our surroundings. </p><p>I suddenly sense a much stronger and the all too familiar smell of smoke and a very hateful boy the scent belongs too. </p><p>I can’t catch a break, can I? Snow has to ruin everything for me.</p><p>“Stop that!” I hear his voice, booming violently. “What the bloody hell are you doing?”</p><p>I turn around and see that he’s already holding his stupid sword up, practically waving it around, the moron that he is. </p><p>Sure, Snow — homosexuality <em>is </em>dangerous enough to need and protect yourself against it with a weapon.</p><p>“What does it look like we’re doing?” Roger smirks. </p><p>“No, that’s not— You’re not—” He stammers back. </p><p>I’m not in a mood to listen to him try and explain this away, try and explain <em>me </em>away.</p><p>That is why I declare calmly, “Yes Snow, you caught us snogging. Satisfied?” </p><p>I get a scowl in return.</p><p>“No, I’m not!” Snow barks, “I can't even get you expelled for this.”</p><p>And just like that with one single sentence, he breaks my heart in a way I haven’t expected even from him. </p><p>Not that I spend my days expecting good things coming my way from Snow. </p><p>However, this right here takes the prize...</p><p>“Well, how unfortunate for you then,” I don’t even manage to sneer at him. My body refuses to cooperate, or perhaps it’s my mind… </p><p>Something short-circuited, something just broke… I wonder if it can ever be healed...</p><p>I notice how tense Roger has become and that he’s about to speak. </p><p>However, Snow isn’t the kind of person one should try to have a functional dialogue with, especially when he’s around me and angry. (He’s always angry around me.)</p><p>And Roger is from the Families. I doubt Snow would shy away from killing him. </p><p>We’re nothing to them but the dirt we’ll be put in by the time they make us perish. </p><p>The last thing I want is to have someone’s blood on my hands. I take hold of his arm and try to pull him behind me.</p><p>“Roger, we should leave, now.” I’m trying my best to appeal to him and put as much emphasis on those words as possible. </p><p>He turns to me but before he has a chance to answer, he must see the utter worry and horror on my face. </p><p>“Whatever you say, Basil,” he gives in and lets me lead him away.</p><p>Snow tries to block our way, “Where are you going?” </p><p>“That’s none of your business. Go enjoy the festivities with all your adoring fans,” I state with all the disdain I can muster. (I might be extremely off my game.)</p><p>Snow stands his ground, growling at us, clutching his sword harder.</p><p>It’s time to bring out the big guns then. “We’re going to shag, Snow. If you’re not joining, you might as well step aside.” </p><p>I’m lying, of course. After what just happened, sex is the furthest thing from my mind.</p><p>I manage to sneer (thank snakes) at him this time and that provokes him.</p><p>Good. If he focuses all his fury on me, he might let Roger be.</p><p>Snow gifts me with a particularly loaded glare and that gives us enough time to leave.</p>
<hr/><p>I don’t come back for the finale year, it’s only optional.</p><p> Mother would have been disappointed. </p><p>But I chose to believe that in the end, she’d want me <em>happy</em>. Not that I have any illusions about true happiness, but at least far away from Snow there will be far less misery. </p><p>I talked to Father about this (and Fiona before that.) Everything's settled —  I’m going to start at Oxford this autumn. </p><p>Father was so ecstatic I wanted to leave Watford, he even let me choose any curriculum I wished for. Miss Possibelf helped me with all the transcripts and the necessary paperwork.</p><p>I left a note for Snow. </p><p>
  
</p><p>There’s my love confession. I once made a promise to myself to let him know. And I did. </p><p>Yes, I dreamt about delivering it in person through my dying breath, but I have other plans now.</p><p>Snow broke my heart behind the White Chapel that night but he also gave me something in return. </p><p>There's nothing left for me, I’m done pretending that when I’m near him I feel alive. </p><p>It’s an <em>illusion</em>. I was never going to have a life while he was close by because I never wanted one without him.</p><p>But for the first time ever I want to have it — a real life. I want to know what it feels like to have something that exists outside of Snow. </p><p>He wasn’t merely the centre of my universe for seven years — Snow <em>was </em>my universe.</p><p>It’s time to create my own. It’s time to move on and to live, and stop spinning around him and waiting for whatever he deems suitable to do to me. </p><p>He has never done anything decent to me. I take a good look in the mirror — at my nose. It's bent towards the bottom because Snow broke it once. </p><p>I never mended it because I wanted a reminder of him, almost like a piece of him to carry around with me anywhere I go. </p><p>For reasons I know were utterly ludicrous I thought it meant that I mattered enough for him to break my nose. </p><p>Mother would never have let my father do that to her if he ever tried — she’d burn him to ashes. (Father would never do something like that of course, he loved her.) </p><p>I, however, never mattered to Snow. I was nothing to him, except a nuisance, a bitter rival, an enemy, something to fight and to destroy. And there I was holding on to a memory of a broken nose. </p><p>Aleister Crowley, what a joke I have become. </p><p>Right then and there I take my wand out, cast a powerful enough healing spell and watch my deformation fade away. If I’m lucky it will wither on the inside of my heart too one day... </p><p>I always thought that if I ever survived I’d find a thousand men who look exactly like him and break each of their hearts a different way.</p><p>But I’m not Snow. I don’t take pleasure in breaking things.</p><p>This is the day I shed my last tear because of Simon bloody Snow.</p><p>I’m <em>done</em>.</p>
<h1>SIMON</h1><p>When Baz didn’t come back to Watford I thought it was a ruse to get to me, to kill me. I thought he was plotting against me. </p><p>His letter — wasn’t even a real letter, (just a short note, scribbled with less precision that he gives in class), Baz didn’t even bother to take time and write our names properly — couldn’t mean anything else than a distraction, to try and confuse me. </p><p>I still saved the note. It was the last thing he said to me, even if it was in writing, even if it was a lie. (It hurts to think why I care that what’s in the note isn’t true.)</p><p>Miss Possibelf told me that he wasn’t coming back, that he left Watford. I didn’t believe her.</p><p>I knew that Baz would never do that. He needs to be nearby to plot against me so he can kill me. </p><p>I’ve been losing my mind over him and looking for him everywhere; the grounds, the Wavering Wood. I’ve even mapped out the Catacombs (took me half a year, with it being practically a maze.)</p><p>Penny wouldn’t help me look for him and my spells are too dodgy to do me any good so I couldn’t track him with magic. </p><p>He wasn’t anywhere I searched...</p><p>And then last week, I overheard one of his friends talk, that he's studying music and literature at the University of Oxford. </p><p>At first, I didn’t believe that. </p><p>How could Baz be plotting from there? Isn’t it too far? But then I decided to check just in case and broke into Miss Possibelf’s office. </p><p>It was true. I read his transfer information.</p><p>Baz is in Oxford. I left to find him immediately, found a schedule for his classes and was waiting for him outside of the building. </p><p>I see him as soon as he comes out. Baz stops just outside and starts typing on his phone. </p><p>I can’t look away. He’s as perfect as always. He’s wearing a pair of snug black jeans and a dark shirt with some kind of flowers on it. </p><p>I’ve never seen him in jeans before.</p><p>My heart beats too fast.</p><p>I’m not sure what I expected to think or feel. I feel relief to finally have found him. </p><p>Despite every worry about him planning my downfall, I missed him. I know I care too much about him, more than I’m usually willing to admit to myself. But I had plenty of time to think while walking alone in Catacombs for hours at a time. </p><p>I know there’s plenty I feel when it comes to Baz.</p><p>And right now I think that if I blink he might disappear. It’s been too long. I’ve almost lost my bloody mind looking for him. </p><p>There’s a light breeze and his shoulder length hair is floating in the air. He reaches for it with his long fingers and moves it out of his face.</p><p>My heart skips a beat. Baz is the prettiest person I’ve ever seen in my entire life.</p><p>“Baz—” I call out and he looks my way. </p><p>He’s so different — his face is open and sweet, even more beautiful like this. It reminds me of the way he’d look in his sleep; the softness is breathtaking…</p><p>Baz smiles at me and it’s genuine as if he’s happy to see me. </p><p>My stomach fills with butterflies, I want to reach out to him, to pull him closer, to kiss him…</p><p>But a moment later I can clearly see the confusion on his face and something else, not sure what… </p><p>I don’t think he recognised me at first. Then just like that, his face turns to stone and he starts walking away. </p><p>Of course, Baz doesn’t want to speak to me, he never did before so nothing has changed. </p><p>I have no idea why I even let myself believe for a moment that he was happy to see me.</p><p>And yet, without thinking, I catch up with him and grab for his arm. Baz jerks away from me.</p><p>”What do you want?” </p><p>He doesn’t raise his voice but it comes out a hundred times sharper than ever before — it hurts to hear him like that. </p><p>Even as we were fighting in the worst way, he’s never sounded like this towards me.</p><p>I don’t know what to tell him. Eventually, I settled on, “I wanted to know if it’s true, to check if you're really here in Oxford.”</p><p>“You checked. Now if you don’t mind,” he sneers and he sounds so bored. </p><p>I always bore him because I’m not as posh as him. </p><p>There’s nothing on his face, <em>no emotions</em>. It’s even worse now because his eyes don’t show anything either. It’s as if he closed himself off from me entirely.</p><p>I don’t know what to do.</p><p>“Where are you going?” I try to keep the conversation going, to get something out of this. I don’t think he’ll let me talk to him again. </p><p>There’s something different about Baz now, the way he treats me. He’s not goading me for a fight. I think he gave up on me completely. </p><p>He doesn’t hate me enough to want to fight. </p><p>Have I become <em>nothing </em>to him?</p><p>That’s also when I notice his nose, it’s not bent anymore. He fixed it. </p><p>I have no idea why but something tightens inside my chest at the thought of him removing the only connection we had left. </p><p>We aren’t roommates anymore, not enemies either since he chose to be selfish and leave. </p><p>There’s nothing left between us and now I see he removed this last item we shared, even if it only was a broken nose.</p><p>And then it hits me — I <em>broke </em>his nose. He never broke anything mine. </p><p>That makes me feel awful. I did that to <em>Baz</em>. </p><p>There’s shame coiling in my gut and spreading through my heart... </p><p>I can’t do anything about that. I can’t fix what’s already been done.</p><p>I want to say how sorry I am just as Baz speaks.</p><p>“I’m meeting my boyfriend for lunch.” He doesn’t look at me anymore when he says it. </p><p>Baz has a boyfriend. </p><p>Of course, he does — he’s beautiful and smart. I’ve always thought so. (I suspect that was a big part of my obsession with him even from the start.)</p><p>I wonder who the posh tosser is. </p><p>Probably tall just like Baz with perfect black hair, in an expensive suit, some rich banker. He would only be with someone like that because he looks down on people like me. He looks down on <em>me</em>.</p><p>That’s when I see a bloke approaching, smiling and waving. </p><p>He’s wearing black washed out jeans and a plain black t-shirt, carrying what I assume is a guitar in a case. </p><p>He has curly, light brown hair, blue eyes. His face and hands are freckled and covered in moles. He looks just like me. </p><p>My stomach turns at the sight of that and my heart is beating too fast. I clench my fists together and feel a knot in my throat.</p><p>The bloody bloke looks like <em>me</em>.</p><p>He. Looks. Like. Me!</p><p>Baz leaves without saying goodbye. Or maybe he did and I just didn’t hear him because I’m still in shock. </p><p>Everything starts to click in place. </p><p>I thought Baz leaving Watford was his way to get to me but he was getting away from me. The note wasn’t there to confuse me was it?</p><p>I remember that evening. It has burned into my brain like an imprint, hurting me every time I’d think about it. </p><p>Baz and some eighth-year bloke snogging. Let's face it, it was more than that. I saw the bloke squeezing Baz’s arse and Baz's hand in that person’s trousers. </p><p>I shudder violently when remembering that.</p><p>They were about to have sex, probably or at least do something… And then before leaving Baz told me they were going to do it — to have sex with each other. </p><p>I cringe when I think about that — Baz and that bloke, both naked, their limbs entangled. Every time those images would flick through my mind it’d make me furious to the point of going off...</p><p>It made me so angry to see them together that night. </p><p>It felt like a personal betrayal against me for reasons I couldn’t understand or wanted to understand, I guess. </p><p>Later I started to recognize those reasons better and acknowledge how jealous I was. It’s been overwhelming and almost unbearable to experience. It broke my heart.</p><p>I also remember what I said to Baz and now suddenly realize how it must have sounded to him. </p><p>But I didn't mean it like <em>that</em>. I meant that I wanted to prove he was a vampire. Because it’s all I ever cared about — to prove he’s a vampire. </p><p>That’s not true though is it? All I ever cared about was him; it still is. <em>I’m in love with Baz.</em></p><p>I watch the bloke kiss him. They look happy together, walking on the street, holding hands.</p><p>We could have looked like that. Baz could have been happy with me, holding <em>my </em>hand. </p><p>Instead, he met a bloke that isn't me. </p><p>He didn’t choose someone posher, or more handsome — just a person that looks like me.</p><p>I feel tears pricking in my eyes as I watch them wander in another direction until there’s nothing more to see, even their silhouettes are gone. </p><p>Carefully I take out the note from the back pocket of my jeans and look at it. I don’t need to read it to know what it says. </p><p>I’ve memorized every word, every letter, every curl of each pen stroke a long time ago...</p><p>There's nothing else to say or to do. </p><p>It’s <em>bittersweet</em>. I found him, after a whole year of searching but I didn’t get him back. </p><p>Baz has someone else now and it’s all my own doing.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If this story made you sad and you’d like a bit of cheering up, here are a few <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/series/1866586">SnowBaz explicit double drabbles</a> from ’I love you’ prompts.<br/><br/>If you’d like more cheering up — here’s my Snowbaz happy stories:<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023208">My Carry On Countdown 2020</a> — 32 one shots, <b>various rating</b>.<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/series/1934521">I Choose You</a> - series, <b>various rating</b>.<br/><br/><b>Explicit</b>:<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/21792541/chapters/52001164">Summertime</a> — multiple chapters.<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23157277/chapters/55423396">How to lose a straight enemy in 10 easy steps</a> — multiple chapters.<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24917710/chapters/60300532">Liquid Fire (Sex and Blood Remix)</a> — multiple chapters.<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23721121">Wanking my feelings away 2.0 edition</a> — one shot.<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23517976">All it took was one glance</a> — one shot.<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/21646147">Simon’s Summer</a> — one shot.<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/21825082">The happiest moment of my life</a> — one shot (this is a smut part of a longer fic, and can be read separately.)<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24846886/chapters/60106213">Wetter is Better</a> — multiple chapters. (Co-written with <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbynormalj/pseuds/abbynormalj">abbynormalj</a>.)<br/><br/><b>Mature</b>:<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26718973/chapters/65180536">Courting is Easy</a> — multiple chapters, (short).<br/><br/><b>Teen</b>:<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28453068#main">The Belt Buckle</a> — one shot.<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23805289/chapters/57193069">He’s not dull</a> — multiple chapters.<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24613699/chapters/59461462">It Can Only Be You</a> — multiple chapters. (Co-written with <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theawkwardbibliophile/pseuds/Theawkwardbibliophile">Theawkwardbibliophile</a>.)<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23314567/chapters/55844782">Baz is a cat</a> — short (1,513 words.)</p><hr/><p>Thanks for reading. 💙</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>